


our corner of the universe

by phoneboook



Category: Lifeline (Video Game 2015)
Genre: Crying, F/M, Fluff, Happy meetings, Lots of Crying, Oneshot, Spoilers, dont read this if u havent finished playing all three games, idk what else to tag this as, oh ya taylor uses he/him pronouns here, taylor is just rly happy to meet u
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-04-05 13:52:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14045640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoneboook/pseuds/phoneboook
Summary: "All you could do was stare.And he was staring, too."__in which the reader finds herself in a cafe, absorbed in her thoughts; dwelling on past memories; thinking about certain someones... until those certain someones make a very unexpected appearance with more than a little explaining to do.





	our corner of the universe

He was crying. Or, at least, trying his hardest not to. You didn't mean to stare, you knew it was rude, but you felt like you knew him. So, of course you were going to stare. His eyes were puffy and red as he sipped on his coffee, his gaze falling towards the window. He looked scared; traumatised. He still hadn't noticed you, watching him from the other side of the cafe, too busy focusing on something else. He brought his arm up to his face, rubbing the tears from his eyes. You saw him mumble to himself, then quickly glance at you. _Directly_ at you.   
  
The two of you made eye contact and, swallowing nervously, you looked away hastily, shifting your weight on the seat. Did he actually know this whole time— that you'd been watching him? You really had hoped not. 

 

You pretended to be on your phone, which you had initially intended to do anyway, awaiting some sort of message. Not just any message, but a message from him. Taylor. It had been months, maybe even a year, since you'd heard from him. You had to admit it though, as much as you didn’t want to. Your phone wasn't somehow magically wired to your transmitter, that connected you to Taylor, at work. So, being on your phone was kind of pointless. But despite knowing nothing was ever going to be sent to you, you still wanted to believe that maybe something would appear—even a simple message from work about Taylor. 

 

All that aside, though, going back to work was a little on the hard side. You couldn't step within a few metres radius without feeling every single fibre inside you curl up and shrivel into fear. Taylor's heroic sacrifice put you into what you liked to call "panic mode", and going back to work would remind you of everything the both of you went through. That being said, Taylor's absence had rubbed off on you. You could genuinely not remember when you had last talked with him. Only remnants of your final conversation. The fact you couldn't remember worried you and sent your distraught head into something more than a little perturbed. After restless nights, you stopped telling yourself he would be okay. You stopped believing and started doubting. What else could you do?

  
Where was your occupier-fighting astronaut friend? Where  _ was  _ Taylor?

  
  
You’d hunkered down against the table at which you sat, staring only deeper into the blank screen of your phone. You willingly forced yourself to let memories resurface; to remember the final hour. The last you had heard from him was seconds before the artificial black hole enveloped him, along with the more evil future version of himself. The last time you talked to him, he was hurting. You had told him not to cut corners - you didn't want him to be in pain - but Taylor being Taylor, he refused that option entirely. Sure, you hadn’t been thrilled with his decision, but it was really the only way for humanity’s safety, right? Without hesitation, a new thought aroused, and set your heart aflutter, though only momentarily. The last thing Taylor had promised was to find you if ever he could find a way out.

  
And so you let that hope linger. At least, for a while.   
  
He was still looking at you. You could tell, despite how deep in thought you were. You were really trying your best not to look up, but his gaze was so unnerving that it made you feel uncomfortable. You brought your phone closer to your face in an attempt to make it seem like you weren't going to look up anytime soon, but the compelling feeling of  _ wanting  _ to look up was too tempting. Who was he anyway? Why did it feel like he was so familiar to you? You had never seen this man before. It deemed, obviously, opposite for the one across the cafe from you.   
  
You hated the feeling of uncertainty as you slowly lowered your phone, keeping your eyes glued to the graininess of the table, not daring to look up. You shuddered. You knew he was still staring, but why? You wanted to stand up, to tell him to leave you alone, but then again, you couldn't really talk. You were the one looking at him in the first place.   
  
Taking hold of your, now lukewarm, cup of coffee, you dragged your eyes towards the window, forcing yourself to look out at the grey, gloomy clouds hanging low in the sky. You sipped your coffee and let your thoughts take over once more—purely to block out the feeling of being watched.   
  
You really missed Taylor, the more you thought about it. Though each day was becoming easier to bear, you worried about him. You never thought you would have to admit it either, but you genuinely missed the references he’d always make, even though sometimes you didn’t quite understand its context-- you would always go along with it anyway, and later look into the reference and giggle quietly to yourself as you finally understood. While Taylor may have told countless eye-rolling puns or was on a constant ramble, you didn’t realise how much quieter it felt without him. Without his heartfelt company. You really, really missed that, above all. You really hated how helpless you felt— you hated it more that you beat yourself up for not being able to do a single thing to save him. And, even though it had been so long, though you weren’t sure why  _ now _ you were reflecting on this, there was still just a tiny spark of hope stirring inside you.   
  
Hope that, wherever Taylor was in the universe, that he was okay.    
  
You heard a chair squeak in the cafe. You jumped. You had been so absorbed in thought about Taylor that the someone who was  _ clearly  _ standing up loudly, on purpose mind you, must have  _ really _ wanted your attention. You curiously looked over, but immediately wished you hadn't.  _ He  _ was walking over to you. Your table. Your personal space. You started to panic as he pulled out a chair across the table from you and sat himself down.   
  
All you could do was stare.   
And he was staring, too.   
  
"Can I help you..?" you muttered, your gaze sharpening in response to this strangers forwardness. You felt a sudden pang of anger within you. The fact he had sat down at your table without even stopping to ask seemed rude to you. That feeling brushed off as quickly as it came, however. After all, what was the point of letting anger burden you if you were already holding a thousand other emotions captive?

  
He didn't answer you for a while, yet his gaze was still fixed on you. He looked like he was drowning in thought, or that he wanted to say  _ something, _ but it was hard to tell. He was hard to read. You cleared your throat and looked away awkwardly, that horrible, uncomfortable feeling returning to you. You so badly wanted to get up and leave, but something was just so… faint about this character.   
  
"Hey, guess what?" the unfamiliar voice began, his voice sounding somewhat weak, though you deduced that that was probably because he had been crying earlier. He waited for a second, waiting for you to respond with an excited " _ what? _ " or even show  _ some  _ curiosity, but instead you returned your gaze to watch him cautiously, still not completely decisive on trusting this new... 'friend'.   
  
He coughed awkwardly when you didn't respond in the way he'd wanted you to and stiffly rested his arms on the table, folding one over the other. He leaned forward, closer to you, his constant, genial gaze locked with your otherwise paranoid stare. You didn't even know who he was, so why was he acting so friendly towards you? Why you? Why not anyone else in the cafe? Was it because you had been paying attention to him? Was it because he recognised you? Why?   
  
"Have you ever wanted to go to space?" he asked, substituting topics briefly. Again, he waited for some kind of response, but still, in your completely panicked state, you left him unanswered. He tilted his head and looked at you with anticipation. "It's not a rhetorical question either if you were wondering."   
  
You blinked, taken aback for a second. 

 

"Oh, uh... Yeah? I guess it'd be fun," you answered quietly, your fingers tapping gently against the wood of the table in an attempt to distract your mind.   
  
"Fun? Okay. I'll take that. I mean, who wouldn’t want to go there?" he shrugged, watching you as you tapped your fingers. "Look, it's not exactly how I'd describe space, but, if that's what you think, then sure."   
  
You frowned, confusion the more evident expression resting on your face. You were a lot confused, actually. A complete stranger had started nonchalantly talking to you about such a random topic--  _ space _ . The timing of your thought process and now  _ this  _ was uncanny.  _ Honestly, _ out of any topic that could have been chosen, why did it have to be something Taylor related? 

  
Wait—  
  
"Y’know, _I've_ been up in space. For starters, I think you should never go there," he insisted, interrupting you from finishing your thought process.  
  
Before you could even comprehend him, you shot up in your seat, your eyes widening in shock. Had you heard him correctly? Surely this couldn't be him— it couldn't be Taylor at all. Could it...?  
  
"I'm sorry. Did you say you've been in _space_?" you questioned, stressing your tone to make it sound like space was a stretch. You furrowed your eyebrows together in disbelief, set on the thought that there was no way the person sitting in front of you was, in fact, Taylor.  
  
He merely nodded, and although he had been crying minutes ago, he had a rather large grin on his face. It only addled you more. Why was he smiling at you like that? You had to take a minute to re-gather your thoughts and actually process what was going on. You weren’t sure if you wanted to believe it. It just seemed _impossible_ that somehow he had made it back, and without even contacting you. Was that... intentional though? But then, how did he get back? And... And how did he even find you? And why didn't he say anything to you about it?  
  
Despite your very doubtful thoughts, you urged yourself to accept it. That hope you were holding on to was burning, and it was becoming hard to ignore. It really _was_ him, you hoped. Because somehow he seemed to know it was you, too. The one who'd saved him from the occupiers, and the moon, his future, occupied self: T2, the black hole, and his seemingly inevitable death.  
  
"No way..." you finally gasped out, as if it was the first breath you'd taken in forever. The male's grin only grew wider as the final dawning of realisation hit you. "Taylor... Is it really you..?"  
  
He chuckled quietly to himself and nodded, his expression more than giddy. Clearly, your reaction was amusing to him, because he let out an almost childish giggle as your expression changed from one emotion to the next when it all started making sense. Well, maybe not complete sense. There were a lot of questions needing answers, but there was more than enough time for that.  
  
"Miss me?"  
  
Those words. He'd asked that before. Back on the White Star. The second time he'd contacted you. Hearing that made you smile bitterly. Of course you missed him. It was stupid of him to even ask.  
  
You were at a loss for words. You couldn't even respond with a simple 'yes' or 'no'. You weren't sure whether to be happy or sad, overwhelmed or underwhelmed; you didn't know _what_ to think. You just sat there in shock, yet your face was blank, void of any emotion. You didn't even register the fact that your eyes were blurring with tears, nor did you feel them slide down your cheeks. You must have scared him or at least worried him, because the minute you started to cry, his smile was gone in an instant and instead replaced with a concerned gaze.  
  
"Taylor, I—.." you choked back on your sentence, not sure where exactly you were trying to go. "Of—of course I missed you! But… none of this makes sense. How… how can you be here? Why didn't you tell me you were okay?" Your voice had lowered to a high-pitched whisper, tears dripping off your chin and hitting the table. "I needed to know you were okay..."  
  
Your head lowered, feeling ashamed that you were reacting in such a childish way. For God’s _sake_ , you were supposed to be happy! Taylor, even in his traumatised state, went out of the way to find you, and tell you face to face that he was still alive—that he was _okay_! You chewed on your bottom lip as you stared downwards, your eyes squinted as more tears fell. Were you crying from relief? You couldn't tell. You felt a million things at this point. Despite everything, you knew you definitely felt at peace, knowing that he was safe. Hell, that he was _breathing_ , even.  
  
"There's a lot to explain," he mumbled, working out where he could begin. "The first thing I did when I got back to Earth was find out who you were," Taylor started, leaning forward again. You could tell he wanted to comfort you, but something was holding him back. Maybe he was scared you might feel uncomfortable. You weren't sure. A hug would've been nice, though.  
  
"(Y/n)."  
  
That was it. The moment your name escaped his lips was what sent your head into a disorganised spin. More tears were beginning to uncontrollably fall. He knew who you were. Your name. He took time to find out what he could about you.  
  
"That was what I was told first. Your name," he smiled reassuringly, his hand sliding along the table to meet with your own hand. Fingertips touched, and sparks flew. Your heart was beating a mile a minute. From what feeling though? You couldn't understand any of your emotions. He clasped his hand around yours; it was an attempt to comfort you. "Once I had your name, some of your work pals told me that you hadn’t been in at work for a while. They said you needed to take a break... Because of me,” he paused briefly, looking apologetically at you before continuing, “By the looks of things, they weren’t pulling my leg when they said I could find you here. They were kind enough to show me a photo of you. Nice photo ID, by the way. You really rocked the ‘I don’t want to be here look’. Anyways, do you know how much coffee I’ve drunk since I’ve waited for you to show up here? I think I tried half of the stuff on their drinks menu. Um, but yeah, I kinda waited for you here for, like, five days. But I wasn’t going to give up because you never gave up on me! And, hey, look! I found you! It feels unreal to me, even now. But, here we are— and we’re both in tears," he laughed lightly and used his free hand to wipe his tear-stained cheeks. You hadn't noticed it before, but he had started crying again. He was crying because he had found you, and you must have felt the same thing too.  
  
"I told you I would keep my promise."  
  
He smiled warmly and squeezed your hand gently. Copying Taylor's actions from before, you too, wiped your eyes with the back of your free hand and sniffed, a lingering feeling of doubt still surrounding you. There wasn't a need for uncertainty, but for some reason, it was still there; still bubbling inside you. Among the clouded feelings that you held inside, that one feeling was clear. You still had no idea how he'd made it back to Earth without your help.  
  
"Taylor… I can't believe you did all this, just to find me. It— it makes me so happy that you went out of your way to. …I'm still lost though," you said softly, trying to steer clear of sounding blunt. "How did you get back? How did you escape the black hole?"  
  
Taylor's face scrunched up slightly as if hearing your query pained him to think about it.  
  
"You remember Mari? She risked her life to save me. She got us back to the ship," he explained, seeming to avert your puzzled fixation on him. "I nearly died- and so did Mari. But, somehow, it all worked out. We abandoned the Greens' ship, and thankfully Mari's escape pod got us away from the danger. To cut a long story short, my transmitter - the thing that lets me contact you - was damaged, so I had to get that working again. And Mari managed to contact another ship that saved our lives and got us back to Earth, with some wacky, weird but super fast space travel. Kinda sounded a little _too_ good to be true, but I didn’t have any other ideas. With all the 'luck' that I’ve had, I didn't think it'd be possible for me to make it back home. But, amazingly, my good luck actually _did_ pull through. I'm alive, and I'm home," he ended, finally meeting your now composed gaze. "I got my transmitter working again when we were on our way back to Earth, and I messaged you, but I had a dead line coming from your side of the transmission. When we landed at the station, I was able to meet your friends, who all miss you, by the way, and they were _crazy_ helpful. You had no idea how god damn worried I was about you. I know it’s hypocritical of me to say that, but you know how I get…” 

  
You had to bite your lip at that. It wasn't your intention to make him worry. In fact, weren't you the one who was supposed to be worried? You did feel bad though, leaving work almost completely unannounced, and leaving Taylor without a lifeline. It was like, the minute you left was the minute you gave up.   
  
"God... I had no idea. I'm— I'm really sorry. I know sorry will never be enough, but I mean it," you said weakly, your chest tightening in pain. "I have to ask, though. Are you...okay?" you asked, more in the aspect of whether he'd 'be the same again' so to speak. He'd put himself out of the way and made you his top priority. Then again, though, Taylor was always like that.   
  
"God, of course I'm not okay. I don't think I'll be 'okay' for, like, at least a while. For now, all that matters is that I found you; that was the most important thing I had to do," he answered straightforwardly, his gaze shifting downcast briefly at the reminder of what he had been through. "But... I don't think I'm strong enough to do anything by myself... That's why I need you-- my lifeline. You've helped me through thick and thin, talked to me and kept me sane. It sounds burdensome, but I really depend on you. And I think I will for a while, or at least until I start feeling normal again."   
  
You knew exactly what he was asking you. He wanted you to be there for him. You didn't even have to think twice about your answer. It was always going to be an easy yes.   
  
"I'll be with you every step of the way if that’s what you want. I'll do whatever I can to help you. After all, that's what a lifeline is supposed to do. I want you to feel safe again, and to get you back to your normal self. Even if it takes a long time, I promise I'll stay by your side. You can count on me," you promised, your demeanour suddenly changing into an overly definitive state. You didn't know where this burst of conviction came from, but it felt good to finally tell Taylor in person that you were going to stay by him no matter what. It looked like it made Taylor feel better, too.   
  
The two of you stared at each other for a minute longer, Taylor’s calloused, yet comforting hand held tightly over your delicate one. You had completely forgotten his hand was still on yours. Snapping out of your daze, you blinked down towards your hand—the one Taylor was holding—and felt your face grow warm. It had taken you a moment to completely absorb the fact that he was right there, in front of you, and he was holding  _ your  _ hand. 

 

You hadn’t really noticed it until now, but Taylor’s hand had a small display of fresh scars scattered over it. You wondered; was the rest of his body like that too? Had... Had he put you before medical help? Again, a familiar pang- not anger, this time, but guilt- hit you. Earlier, Taylor had mentioned how he’d been waiting five days for you, just to meet you. Even longer if you counted the time you were away from work. Not one of your co-workers had even contacted you about Taylor coming back. Maybe...that was intentional too, though? Knowing Taylor had been going to the same cafe for five days straight, solely just to find you, made you upset—especially knowing, or at least, due to your theory—knowing that he had put you before himself.   
  
You brought your free hand over to his own scarred one, and without thinking, you traced your finger over a particularly longer cut compared to the other ones present. The moment you did that, though, he flinched. You retaliated quickly and pulled your hand back, afraid you had hurt him.   
  
“I’m sorry!” you squeaked, panic laced into your voice. Taylor seemed to have looked scared too, but despite how he had reacted, he shook his head and forced a smile at you.   
  
“No, that was my fault,” he mumbled, moving his hand back to his previous, arm-folded, position. “I haven’t really gotten used to.. gentle.. human contact yet... It’s, uh, been a while. Those scars are a little sensitive still, too..”   
  
Your concerned gaze remained locked onto his downcast one, and you had to stop yourself from reaching out to comfort him. Instead, you respectfully moved your hands under the table, away from sight and away from mind, and gave him the most sympathetic look you could muster.   
  
“I’m sorry,” you apologised again, that same, familiar, guilty feeling hitting you like a sea of bricks. A sorry was probably the best thing you could offer. After all, what else was there that you could say to mend the pain— mend everything Taylor had been through?   
  
For a while, there was a silence between you two. It was like it had returned to the same static silence you felt before today’s unexpected events. An agonising silence. Taylor’s eyes were clouded with an unnamable emotion, but he seemed to be too absorbed in his thoughts to realise the awkward tension reforming between the two of you. You decided you wouldn’t push it, however. Idle chatter was not going to make the situation better. Instead, you sat still and watched him with your still very sympathetic mien. That was all you  _ could  _ do.   
  
“(Y/n),” Taylor suddenly looked up at you, his expression returning to its former, relieved self, “Have I told you how much I like your name? I really think it suits you,” he smiled at you, genuinely this time, and repositioned himself in his seat, sitting up a little straighter. “I can’t believe that the entire time we talked, I never  _ once  _ asked you for your name. How stupid is that?”   
  
You cocked your head. He seemed to have perked back up quickly, and with a flattering topic change, too. Maybe it was a coping mechanism— to distract his mind from his trauma. Deciding to let it slide, but keep a mental note of it, you smiled weakly at him and shrugged.   
  
“Thanks! You know, Taylor suits you as well,” you replied kindly. To you, your compliment seemed forced, considering the fact that your face was painted with dry tears and your eyebrows were still laced together with whatever feeling you felt this time. But maybe it’d be just the thing to make Taylor feel better. For the time being.   
  
“Aw, shucks. You think so?” he asked rhetorically, and sheepishly rubbed the back of his head. You nodded your head in response and picked up your coffee cup, the once warm liquid inside the cup now in a much more cold state. You sighed, annoyed you’d let it get cold, and quickly drank the rest of the, now cold, coffee. You cringed at the cold, bitter taste and set your cup down. Taylor noticed your sour expression and frowned.   
  
“Cold coffee?” he asked, tilting his head. Receiving another nod from you, he snickered and shook his head, as if to sympathise with you. “There’s nothing I love more,” he replied, with obvious sarcasm in his tone.   
  
Ah. Taylor’s sarcasm. You’d missed that too. Oddly enough, it sounded good to be able to hear his sarcasm in person. But, unfortunately, the silence came as quickly as it was gone, and the two of you were left with a strained rift. What was with this weird stillness? Both of you were back together again, this time face to face, and yet, something just didn’t feel right.   
  
Well, maybe there was a reason for it. Taylor had a lot to think about, so it was fair that there would be interrupting periods of quiet. Or, was it better to talk? Because then that way, Taylor wouldn’t have to think about his trauma so much. God, this was all incredibly complicated for you. But you made a promise to Taylor, that you would stick by him no matter what, and you were  _ not  _ going to be breaking that promise, ever.   
  
“Do you have a place to stay at?” you suddenly asked, not even registering the words as they fell from your lips. It was a reasonable thing to ask, but you’d said it so fast you weren’t exactly sure what you’d said in the first place.   
  
“I guess I have my parents place,” he answered quite simply, his hand raising to rub his chin in thought. “I’ve gone to see them, of course, and Tom too! My cat!— God it was incredibly emotional— but, uh, you know, I didn’t really think about where I’d stay,” he mused aloud, looking to his left as he tried to figure out what his plans actually were.   
  
"Come to my place. I’ll look after you,” you said quickly, not even a second after Taylor finished his own sentence, and without any hesitation at that. Was this what you wanted? Is this what Taylor wanted? You weren't even sure why you wanted him to stay with you, but perhaps there was some kind of reason behind it.   
  
Taylor hesitated at your offer. Even though the sound of your offer was hard to pass by, he felt somewhat guilty that you were giving up space in your house for him. “I don’t know...” He mumbled, seeming deep in thought, “It’s a really nice gesture, thank you, but I couldn’t do that to you.”   
  
“I’m serious. You can stay— I have plenty of room,” you confirmed, again, answering him seconds after he’d finished speaking. For some reason, you really wanted Taylor with you, and you honestly weren’t sure why. “I want to be able to wake up every day knowing you’re okay.”   
  
There you go. You’d answered your own question. Taylor, however, seemed... stumped. He was juggling the idea around in his head, trying to decide if it was the right thing. Times he would look like it was a  _ wonderful _ idea, but then he’d think too hard about it and close himself up, making it difficult to get even the slightest hint. 

 

“I… Okay. If I get annoying, kick me out. Honest to God,” he looked up at you, with an almost dead set stare and just a little unsettling feeling kicking along with it. You instantly glowered, as if he had offended you, and shook your head with the most amount of expression you could make.

 

“I made a promise to you, Taylor,” you said, with a slight warning in your tone, “I could never kick you out, even if you burnt my house down, or… maybe something more rational than that.” It was your turn to lean forward in your seat, this time with the genial expression plastered on  _ your _ face. You really just wanted to get through to him; for him to trust you.

 

And so, Taylor nodded hesitantly, albeit, with a subtle, appreciative smile. Despite the sudden plan, despite everything that had happened thus far, you were glad that this was how things were turning out. How had you ended up here, to this point? You had come to this place just to drink coffee in peace. But then he found you. The lonely astronaut left alone in space. You had to smile to yourself, considering the circumstances. It seemed a little  _ too _ impossible;  _ too  _ unreal for Taylor’s survival, and while that thought had been over welcoming its stay, and a little hurtful on his part, you finally,  _ finally _ pushed it away.

 

You stopped your thoughts after that, realising Taylor had been sitting in silence. “Shall we get going, then?” you asked, slowly lifting yourself up from the comfort of the seat you had sat in. The seat, as ridiculous as the thought came, had become sentimental to you; after all, it was where Taylor first found you. 

 

“(Y/n)...” Taylor began--it had been the first thing he’d said in a while--finding himself standing as well. He had been pondering his own thoughts, too. “This is going to sound dumb, but I’m going to say it anyway. I know I kinda already said this back in space, but thank you. Thank you for coming to my rescue. You saw that I needed help, and you answered. And you didn’t stop. So… thanks for everything. Even now, you’re giving me somewhere safe to stay;  _ still _ showing that you care,” his voice had begun to wobble, you could see his eyes had glossed over with tears, yet he continued, “Man, I didn’t think I’d get emotional saying this, but I can’t express my gratitude  _ enough _ . Space was so  _ DAMN _ scary!  _ Please _ don’t ever go!” He pleaded, instantaneously resulting into a heap of tears and shaken sobs. 

 

Your eyes widened at this, surprised at his final plea. You decided you had no better reason to do this now. To walk up to him,  _ right _ up to him, and set the proximity alarms ringing. Though, this time, they weren’t alarms of danger; instead, they were alarms of open arms; open arms that brought the sobbing astronaut into a warm, welcoming embrace. He’d accepted the action without a single hesitation. He pressed his wet cheeks up against the top of your head and held onto you as tightly as he could, worried that if he let you go, this would end-- that you would disappear, and it would be only a chimera of what he wished could be there. While, on the receiving end, the returned hug was crushing you just a little, you squeezed back with as much force you could muster. To tell him you were there; that you were real.

 

His crying came to an end shortly after your meaningful embrace. His grip slackened slightly, and you took this gesture to pull away, to give him his space. He wiped his eyes hastily with the backs of his hands like he didn’t want you to see him in his previous state. He shook his head slowly and looked down at you apologetically.

 

“Sorry…That’s probably going to happen a lot,” came his short explanation, a weak, lopsided smile settling back on his face. It hadn’t been a smile that said much-- it was more for reassurance, though you hadn’t felt reassured by it. 

 

There had been a moment in which silence tore the two of you apart for the third time, it had started becoming more frequent than not, and you spent a little more than comfortable second gazing into the depths of his indecipherable eyes. You knew this wasn’t the time or the place to lose yourself in his captivating stare, so you willingly forced your eyes to dart to the door.

 

“Let’s get you home, okay?” you suggested softly, wandering over to the exit of the cafe. Taylor had nodded and followed behind you, his feet scuffling along the ground. You felt another smile twitch in the corners of your mouth. It felt unbelievable that Taylor was alive, that he was really, truly okay. You turned to look back at him, beaming at him, expressing just  _ how _ happy you were that he found you; that all your restless nights of unconditional aid finally paid off. Perhaps now you would sleep easier at night, comforted that he was in the same place as you were; that he wasn’t going anywhere, and that he was out of harm’s way.

  
As the two of you walked out of the fateful cafe that brought you together, you whispered four words to him that made his cheeks turn a lightly dusted shade of red, and set his mind spurring with an unexplainable joy. Four words that made Taylor know, despite how meaningless they really meant, that maybe he would be okay. Four words that made him know that as long as he had his lifeline—you—that living with his traumatizing experiences would be just that little bit more bearable. Four words that would make him sleep better at night, knowing you were with him, making sure he was alright. Four words that made him sure that you were going to stick by him. After all, you were the one who saved him from death and understood what he had gone through, so as long as you were around, he knew he would feel safe.   
  
And what were those four words you had said to him so confidently?   
  
"I think you’re cute.”

**Author's Note:**

> gosh i cant believe i finally finished this story... feels kinda weird that i wont ever have to work on this again lmao
> 
> i really hope you liked it! if there are parts that need clarification, please dont hesitate to ask! ive got even more backstory for this that i couldve added but decided not too as the story would get wayyyy too long, but hey yeah! hope you liked reading a nice lil fantasy of mine /w\ i wish that taylors game ends with him being safe AND happy.... please...
> 
> feel free to support me on my other social media too! i post art!  
> instagram @phoneboook | tumblr @hawaiiparttwo


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